


hate sex

by sevenzeroseven



Category: Thunderbolt Fantasy 東離劍遊紀 (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and lang is 1 taunt away from suffocating him with a pillow, lin won't shut tf up, obvs they both talk about shang during bc thats sexy, welp i added more to it but it’s still plotless fodder ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-09 03:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenzeroseven/pseuds/sevenzeroseven
Summary: yep. (aka "go fuck yourself" "fuck me yourself you coward.")





	1. Chapter 1

“Shut up.”

Lang’s hand pressed flat against Lin’s mouth, muffling whatever he was about to say next. Lang wasn’t even paying attention. He was too preoccupied with the feeling of Lin around him, the way his insides constricted with every thrust. He didn’t know what Shang saw in the bastard, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t good at sex.

“Shang doesn’t like talkers,” he said flatly and punctuated his sentence with another thrust for good measure. This one went deep enough to cause Lin’s back to arch slightly off the bed.

He shouldn’t have said anything. He knew his lame attempt at backtalking—he wasn’t very experienced at it—would get turned around on him by the Enigmatic Gale somehow. But he couldn’t help himself.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he focused on the heat building in his lower abdomen. He just wanted to finish; he was close. But before he could entertain the thought for even half a second, Lin suddenly bit him. Canines sunk into the tender flesh of his middle finger hard enough to draw blood.

“Fuck!” Lang swore, and in the momentary distraction, the torrent of anger rising in his chest and cursing his own temper for ever thinking this was a feasible idea, Lin had reversed their positions. He straddled Lang’s hips, sweat beading across his brow. One hand pressed flat against his stomach and traced the faint definition of muscles; the other re-positioned Lang’s dick at his entrance. At this angle, the moonlight reflected off Lin’s red eyes and soft features. So, maybe he was attractive. So what?

Lang didn’t get to finish that thought. Very soon, it was replaced by another as Lin’s fingers traced the length of his dick coated in pre-cum. Lang winced. He didn’t like this—giving Lin control. He wasn’t Shang. The thought made him bitter again but not enough to rid him of his erection. He made to grab Lin and wrestle him back into the bed, but in the blink of an eye, Lin had somehow managed to grab both his wrists instead and pin them above his head.

“Fuck y—” Lang spat. The latter half of the expletive dissolved into a throaty groan as Lin sunk down on him. Lin wasted no time moving above him, rocking his hips at such a frustratingly slow and tantalizing pace that he almost repeated what he’d just said.

“That’s what you’re doing right now, Sir Lang,” Lin purred with some effort, trembling lightly. His words came out between hot breaths, but he still managed to adopt that irritatingly smug smile. “And not—“ Lin stifled a moan mixed in with a laugh. “—inexpertly.”

How the fuck could someone talk so much during sex?

“What you said earlier, were you implying that Shang would like you?“ The taunt was clear. It made Lang grit his teeth, but Lin had quickened his pace, and Lang wasn’t as talented at talking through fucking as he was. It looked like the other wasn’t interested in dragging this out any longer either.

Lin leaned down to meet his gaze, which Lang was having some difficulty keeping a glare. “That would imply you know Sir Shang’s preferences in bed, and I believe neither of us have bedded him—yet.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HOT SPRINGS (งดี౪ดี)ง

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story has no progression and im just here 2 fuck around with the disaster trio ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ have some innocent lin continuing to goad lang

As soon as Shang left, the air turned frigid. Lin trailed his fingers through the steam still rolling off the surface of the water and hummed in amusement.

“I’ve been wondering about something for quite some time.”

His eyes found Lang’s unmoving back and lingered there. He could see the tension ripple through Lang’s muscles like a wave, but other than that, he made no indication of having heard him. He only continued re-braiding the whorls of fiery red hair that he’d dried and loosed earlier.

“I wonder if Sir Lang would be able to shed some light upon it?” Lin continued, unprompted.

Lang didn’t answer, but his fingers began moving somewhat faster than before. Lin smiled at the non-response. Lang shared more similarities with his partner than he cared to admit, which made exploiting them that much easier.

“If I recall, your pipa friend mentioned that those who listen to your voice run the risk of going mad.” Lin propped an elbow along the rocks and leaned his temple against the curled fingers of that same hand.

“And yet neither Sir Shang nor I have been affected in the slightest. For myself, not even after listening to that wonderful ballad of yours.” The fingers of his other hand came up to play along the skin of his lips, and he paused for dramatic effect before finishing, “Why is that?”

Silence fell over them as Lin had expected it to. Without Shang, it was difficult to call them acquaintances, much less friends, but there had been a few interesting... _developments_ in their relationship regardless.

Lin recalled the memory with a faint smirk. Lang could refuse to talk to him all he wanted, but Lin had already seen him come undone. He knew it was possible. And as long as Lang could understand him, he could nudge him in that direction again. He still preferred him to talk, of course, because it was more entertaining that way.

As the silence dragged, Lin pulled himself out of the water. That finally seemed to rouse the other as he shifted on his stool and tossed one of his completed braids behind his back.

“My voice can’t affect someone who’s already mad,” he said simply.

Lin blinked. “Ah!” He clapped his hands together and genuinely startled the younger this time.

Lang threw a venomous glare over his shoulder just as Lin hoisted himself onto the outcrop Shang had been leaning against and falling asleep on.

“How fortuitous. You should talk to me more, then, Sir Lang. I do enjoy hearing your voice.”

He paused again, as if in thought, and pulled the pin from his hair to let it cascade down his back. “As much as I enjoyed hearing your moans.”

Lang choked. Lin watched the tips of his ears redden.

“Keep dreaming,” he snarled, almost without missing a beat. _Almost_.

Lin only laughed in return. The air had warmed a bit.

He ran his fingers through the ends of his own hair and began plaiting it as well. Not so neatly or carefully as Lang—he’d always preferred the freedom of the ponytail by comparison—but enough.

He was done with the single braid in a few seconds. Standing, he held the twisted end in his hand as he walked by Lang finishing his third.

“Where are you going,” Lang snapped, sharp suspicion in his tone.

Lin scoffed quietly and glanced over his shoulder. Red eyes met blue-green and held them there. Lang refused to back down, the heat having left his face and been replaced by cold disgust again. That was an amusing expression too. Just a little less so.

“To dream.” Lin held up his braid and added, “I‘ll be borrowing one of your ties.”

“You dare—“

“There are very few things I dare not do, Sir Lang. It wouldn't bespeak well of my profession as a thief.”

Lin disappeared into the interior without another word. It seemed Lang still needed some time. Perhaps Shang would play with him then?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HOT SPRINGS (งดี౪ดี)ง PART 2 (งดี౪ดี)ง

Shang retired first. He felt some degree of unease about leaving Lang and Lin alone together, but his exhaustion won out in the end.

Even though the bath and hot springs were large, the rooms were tiny, hardly wide enough for bedding and a bench. Lin had only booked one night, so it didn’t really matter, but as Shang shifted around in the semi-dark and continually bumped into the table’s sharp edge, he couldn’t help grumbling.

It was appropriate, then, for the door to creak open at that exact moment. He didn’t need to ask who it was skilled enough to pick a lock in a few seconds; he already knew.

For once, Lin didn’t have his pipe. They were dressed in the same thin, grey robes, but Lin had braided his hair into one thick rope tossed over his left shoulder. Shang could only sigh as the thief slipped in and quickly closed the door behind him.

The crescent moon outside Shang’s window illuminated Lin’s impish gaze and the crease of a smile on his lips.

“What do you want?”

Lin remained quiet which only stoked Shang’s ire further. If the hot spring water hadn’t smoothed away most of his tension, he might have snapped at the man a second time. As it was, he only dropped into a cross-legged sit on the floor mattress and watched the other glide to the low table just beside him. Lin sat down on the edge carefully before starting to undo the sash around his waist.

“What are you doing,” Shang interjected with some vague alarm in the words.

This time, Lin answered. “I thought we could continue from where we left off.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Lin tutted and let the unknotted sash go loose. The front of his robe immediately fluttered open, revealing Lin’s pale, unmarked chest. He crossed his legs and leaned forward on his knee with deliberate teasing. His robe fell a little looser with the action, left sleeve inching down the shoulder.

“Don’t tell me it was a mistake or an accident, Bu Huan. You’ll wound me.”

Shang tsked and jerked his head away. “I won’t go that far,” he said simply. “Still doesn’t mean I think it‘s a good idea.”

Laughing, Lin cupped his chin in his hand and tilted his head to the side. “What are you afraid of, Sir Shang?”

“Well, for one.” Shang nodded to the door. “Thin walls.”

A moment of silence passed between them as Shang continued stubbornly looking away. It dragged on long enough that Shang thought maybe Lin had given up.

“Afraid of Sir Lang overhearing?” Lin asked in a quiet huff.

“That’s—“

The muted sound of shifting fabric interrupted him. The room was so small and close that as soon as Lin dropped from his perch, he nearly landed directly in Shang’s lap.

“ _Oi_ ,” Shang hissed, voice low, only to earn him another chuckle.

Lin’s sleeves had completely fallen over his shoulders by now, and he was very coy in divesting himself of them completely before wrapping his arms around Shang’s neck.

“ _Lin_ ,” Shang stressed, but the fight had already left him as his hands tentatively went to Lin’s waist. It wasn’t quite encouragement, but Lin seemed to take it as such. He shifted around some more in Shang’s lap, pressing their chests closer.

“Sir Lang has already retired for the evening, and there’s my room between yours and his.”

When Shang didn’t answer, Lin sighed. “You won’t let me have the Night of Mourning, and now—“

“That again?” Shang grabbed the wrist of Lin’s left hand that’d been idly playing in the back of Shang’s hair. There was finally some force in his actions and a harshness in his gaze.

Lin, however, remained completely unfazed. He chuckled languidly and made no effort to escape Shang’s hold. In fact, that was probably what he wanted, knowing him. “You don’t really believe I want the Night of Mourning, do you?” he purred. “It was certainly an experience but...”

Lin’s left hand may have been immobilized, but his right remained free. He tossed his braid over his shoulder and in the same breath reached down between them. His fingers traced cotton and thigh until they reached the hardness between Shang’s legs. Shang let out a sharp breath through his nose in tandem.

“There are other ways to gain control than by taking it with a sword... Just as there are better  _swords_ suited for the task.”

“You’re shameless,” Shang growled with agitation and something else mixed into the sound. Something a bit more feral. His grip on Lin’s wrist loosened.

Lin hummed in agreement. He closed the distance between them further until Shang could feel Lin’s breath ghosting across his lips. But he stopped just shy of kissing him, letting his freed hands slip past fabric to map scarred skin and torso instead. He left Shang to breach the final gap.

When he did, it was with a sharp _tsk_  and a hungry look that was better than any sensation a sword could have offered him. Lin smiled through the kiss and opened his mouth unabashedly to deepen it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes lin was lying about lang having already gone to bed lmao -insert threesome according to ur imagination here-

**Author's Note:**

> shang: ✋ keep me out of ur pillow talk

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [love/hate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17536508) by [Mertiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya)




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